


The Family Ri

by Jimiel



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Race Changes, Because Fuck Canon - That's Why, Bilbo Took, Canon Characters Given OC Names, Consent Issues, Dwarf Culture & Customs, Dwarf Gender Concepts, Dwarf Women, Dwobbit!Bilbo, Dwobbits, Family, Family Tree Rearranging, Female!Bilbo, Gen, Genderbending, Mostly Book Timeline, Ri Means Beauty, Unnamed Canon Characters Given Names
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jimiel/pseuds/Jimiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scholars, historians, and budding scientists of Middle-Earth literally froth at the mouth trying to determine just where new dwarfs come from in a population that seems to be entirely male. Do they spring from holes in the ground? Do they carve them out of stones? Do they have some disgusting and painful sounding process where the men give birth?</p><p>The dwarves aren't talking... They're too busy laughing their butts off over the situation!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dilnobri Jewelbearer

**Author's Note:**

> **_Disclaimer:_ ** _I don't own anything that's canon, suing me will only get you a pack of toilet paper..._
> 
> _**Author's Note:** Because I should be writing something else or doing homework, naturally I get this idea in my head and couldn't resist starting it. I love stories where Dori, Nori, and Ori are considered beauties by dwarf standards, I love dwobbits, and have a 'secret' yen for fem!Bilbo... So this._

For centuries the tales and histories of Middle-Earth were nothing more than songs and stories heard around communal fires. Then one day someone decided they should write things down, to better remember the details of what had gone on before. From there it was an easy step to also write down all that people knew of what was in the world. Thus began the honored crafts of Historians, Scribes, Archivists, and Scholars. There was nothing that these craftsmen liked better than archiving the world in all forms. So, in all truth, it was inevitable that there would one day be something that would drive Scholars into several types of fits.

Dwarves.

From the first time a curious Scholar made an innocent inquiry into the history of the small mountain people and was rebuffed there became no greater task among Scholars and Historians among men and elves alike than attempting to discover the secrets of the dwarves. The dwarves merely laughed behind their beards and made a game out of keeping their secrets while intentionally letting misinformation ‘slip’ to the ignorant. That was how the biggest mystery of all came into being about the dwarven folk. But how were they to know that a teasing comment from a spirited dwarfling would be taken so seriously among the big folk? And really, why were they so insistent upon believing that dwarves simply sprouted from the stone?

Had the dwarves known the reason Scholars were so content to believe this farfetched idea of dwarven reproduction they would have probably laughed themselves sick. The Scholars simply could not fathom how a race with seemingly no women continued to grow at a slow, yet steady, pace. For while it was true that dwarven men outnumbered the women two to one, it was very untrue that they had a difficult time reproducing. Dwarves just had a different idea on what is acceptable when it came to continuing their species.

To put it simply: nothing was sacred. When it came to continuing the dwarven species, the Valar that had created the Dwarves, called Aulë by others and Mahal by his dwarves, had gifted to them everything they needed to know to continue their kind in prosperity. Thus the female dwarves had a certain sense. And when this sense kicked in, the female would take time away from her craft and follow that sense to the male in question where she would then encourage him to do as Mahal guided. Either one of the pair could be single, married to each other, married to others, or in understood relationships. Those things did not matter when it came to reproducing because Mahal gift guided the females to those that would bring only the best qualities, however hidden, to the race and quite often the pair would never really see each other again once the female was pregnant.

Now female dwarves are almost their own race, a race within the race of dwarves. They looked to non-dwarves as any other dwarf, a fact that led almost the entire rest of Middle-Earth to easily believe there were no dwarf women. They were strong and sturdy, made to endure, with deep voices and like all dwarfs, had traces of a beard from birth that only grew as they aged. Dwarf women had their own society that was intricate and involved many subtleties that the menfolk of their kind could only grasp the basics of: braids and beads being the easiest for them to understand.

As the women had their own society, it was actually rare for them to take time out of their social intricacies and work to tend to children. So when a new dwarfling came around, one of three things happened. The most common thing was that the dwarfling was given, as if it were their own blood, to a dwarf or dwarf couple that wished to raise a child. It was the best solution as dwarves that wanted to be parents, regardless of gender, were generally the best ones to raise the children. Sometimes one or the other of the actual parents would decide they wanted to raise the child and would rearrange their lives to make such a thing happen. They didn’t always manage to work things properly for the child, but no child ever did without love and affection. The most rare cases, and almost entirely isolated in the royal families, was for the child’s parents to actually be wed to each other and raise them together.

This leads to the special qualities of the sense the dwarf women use when searching out their ‘breeding’ partners. For it is entirely proven that some women give birth to nothing more than the largest, strongest warriors while others give birth to a few brilliant scholars and still others increase the brilliance of the forgers or the most sensitive miners. Thus there are, from time to time, women born solely for the purpose of seeking out the King to become his spouse and strengthen the royal line. But while every female dwarf seems to breed toward a certain purpose, one that in light of their inner society helps give them a place in the hierarchy, there are sometimes the strange ones who seem to have no set pattern to their ‘productivity.’

Dilnobri was just such a woman. She had been over a hundred and sixty years old the first time she set aside her fine gem cutting tools and followed the call of Mahal’s gift. She was beautiful by dwarven standards, with auburn hair twisted into a spider’s web lacing of thin braids and her beard neatly twisted to the sides and twined into the pattern. Her eyes were the color of pale emeralds and, being of Durin’s Folk, she was even considered somewhat exotic in her home in the Blue Mountains. Many a dwarf had attempted to court her in her youth before determining that she was far too involved in her craft to ever bother with such things. Thus it was a surprise to everyone when she chose to rearrange her schedule and keep her first born.

Not even Dilnobri knew why she decided to keep little Dori when he had been born. There had been three couples that had let her know early on in her pregnancy that if she were willing they would take the child. But from the moment she laid eyes on the child, she just knew he would be her most beautiful gem and so she kept him close to her heart and treated him with the same love and care she gave to her best jewels.

Dori was mothered with an astonishing ferocity from the woman whom most had thought more interested in her craft than family. Dilnobri was astoundingly good at being a parent to her child, though she came off as a fussy and overprotective parent to all except the gem cutters. For like most subtle work, it was only the finished product that would shine with startling beauty that most saw and not the tiny intricate details that went into its creation. With one hand she would hold Dori close and protect him from the world and this is what the world saw. What they did not see was the other hand pushing him to learn and explore and grow into a beautiful gem.

And watch him grow they did, for Dori was quite the most beautiful dwarfling that had been seen in some years and as he grew so did his beauty. There were many watching his growth for various reasons. Some watched him because he was simply a jewel among their kind. Some watched for potential alliances for he was distantly descended from the royal line of Durin and even a distant relation would raise the standing of someone. And still others watched so that they could get an idea for what kind of dwarves Dilnobri’s breeding would add to the race.

Then, when Dori was only a lad of twelve, Dilnobri felt the call of Mahal again and not long after her firstborn was thirteen, he had a little brother. Dilnobri decided to keep her second born as well, having found that dwarflings were an entirely different type of jewel to cut and polish. A type that agreed with her, though she was a dwarf and her craft still had a set share of time each day despite now having two children to tend. And the people continued to watch, for even newborn it was obvious that Nori was just as beautiful as his brother. So, teasingly, it became said that Dilnobri’s purpose was to breed beauty into the dwarfs and people were content with this conclusion and her place in society.

Dori and Nori were very close brothers. They were identical in beauty, yet so different that they drew the eyes of all when they would run by laughing and playing. It was a common sight to see them tussling and being typical loud, rowdy, dwarfling boys and on more than one occasion covered in dirt and clothes torn from rough housing. And Mahal forbid any other dwarf, full grown or not, do anything to threaten Dori’s baby brother for the youngster was fiercely strong for a dwarf, even though he was not yet fully grown.

It was startling to the dwarves when Dori finally took up his craft, for it was a craft no other dwarf had ever taken up before. He sampled each dwarven craft and skill before going down to the nearest villages of men and returning with boxes and packages and taking up his very own craft in his room. For the craft that sang in Dori’s heart was to work with clothing! He sewed, stitched, tailored, and embroidered such clothing as to make his entire family even more beautiful than before, if such a thing were possible. It was not long before dwarrow and men alike were commissioning articles and even full costumes from the not-yet-of-age lad.

Nori, like most younger brothers, was somewhat resentful of his brother’s attention being taken from him and turned to a craft. But Nori was a dwarf and even though he resented it, he also understood it and set about dabbling in the available crafts to see what appealed to him. For a time it was thought that Nori was attempting to become a hair designer, for he changed the style he wore every two or three days into something more and more elaborate and strange until finally he settled on a very unique style indeed and was sometimes called Nori Starstealer, for his beauty stole attention away from the stars that he now rivaled. Of course Nori laughed and told them they sounded like elves and the nickname didn’t last long after that…

Then Dilnobri, her auburn locks having gone silver with time, provided her sons with a new distraction in the birth of her third child, whom she named Ori. Her newest son was just as beautiful as the other two and the dwarfs took to calling her Dilnobri Jewelbearer, for all the children she bore rivaled the best cut gems for their beauty.

Time went on, with Dori working his own craft of clothes-smithing, for what he did was far beyond mere tailoring in the eyes of the dwarves. Nori created his own craft as well, though no one knew exactly what he did, for he stubbornly refused to share his chosen craft with anyone who was not his baby brother. The craft Nori chose fascinated little Ori and soon drew thoughtful, appreciative glances Nori’s way. For what Nori did was practice and hone his body into a way of moving that was more of a dance than a normal fighting style and made his muscles leaner and his body more flexible… Yet when he did provoke other young dwarves to fight, it was not Nori that went home with bruises and aches as he moved to fast and lithely for his opponents to strike him and soon the guards were looking to recruit him to their fold.

As Ori grew it swiftly became apparent that the youngest son of Dilnobri was more of a scholarly mind. He loved to read and write. But it just as quickly became apparent that he had a talent for using a quill and ink for the more creative side of the quill. For he wrote stories of childish fancy when young, tawdry poems as he grew older, and eventually stories of battles and romance with detailed portraits to go with the scenes he wrote.

And then came the day when Dilnobri Jewelbearer vanished.

It should be explained at about this time that another of the reasons that so few outsiders knew of the existence of dwarven women was because when meeting outsiders, actual dwarf women were introduced as men. It was part of the elaborate system the true dwarf men had arranged to protect the women. So all women were identified with a shortened version of their name that and identified as the son of whichever parent they were closest to. So Dilnobri, the few times before she vanished that she had met the race of men, had been introduced as Nobri, son of Kimri. And if Dilnobri was really the daughter of Delkimri, that was no outsider’s business.

This information is relevant when it became known, two days after she went missing, that one of the guards to the gate of the city had seen Nobri, son of Kimri, leaving alone in the wee hours of the morning on the first day she was going. But he had been tired, just about to be off shift, and hadn’t been aware of what was going on at the time. The guard was soundly punished for allowing a woman to just walk out of the city without a proper guard, but everyone was at least relieved that her use of the name Nobri meant she was in her proper male dwarf disguise when she left.

Dilnobri was missing for a year and three months. It was a year and twenty-five days too long, for during that relatively brief time, Dori had changed. He fussed over Nori and Ori in ways that started to make Nori resentful and overwhelmed poor Ori into silence. It also saw his beautiful auburn hair develop wide streaks of silver from the stress of his mother’s disappearance.

When she finally returned, it was obvious to everyone just why she had left for Dilnobri was heavily pregnant. To say it was shocking was saying the least of it. For Dilnobri was two hundred and forty-two years old by then, much too old for pregnancy by the standards of all but the longer lived direct line of Durin and Dori’s stress continued to grow as he now fretted and fussed over his mother as well as everything else. A month and a half after she returned, Dilnobri gave birth to her first and only daughter. And it was painfully; startlingly obvious to everyone that got a good look at the infant that she was not a full-blooded dwarf!

She was smaller and more delicate looking than any dwarf baby without a hint of fuzz on her cheeks. She did have a slight amount of fuzz on her feet though, feet that were tougher and stronger than a dwarf, for all they were the proper size. Her ears did not stick out as much as dwarf ears and they had a delicate point! Dilnobri was obliged to threaten anyone that dared call her daughter an elf-spawn, though… Throwing one such curr out of the door!

The most astonishing thing about the new babe though, was the soft gold curls on her head that was so unlike dwarf hair that it was truly a thing of beauty. Not that her hair was the only thing beautiful about her. For despite the fact that she was a half-dwarf, it became obvious by the time the wee lass was toddling about that she had inherited the best of both her mother and her mysterious father and Dilnobri retained her title of Jewelbearer even as age finally began to weaken her. Dilnobri set aside her beloved gem crafting and put her remaining years into her family.

  
\---,--'-{@ ^_^ @}-'--,---  


Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, in a land of rolling hills, a letter was being opened by a small man of a race called Hobbits with a riot of honey gold curls atop both his head and his feet. The contents of the letter were short, simple, and stunning and caused him to beckon his wife over to share in regarding the missive.

_Dear Gerontius,_

_It’s a girl. September 22nd, 2840._

_Nobri, son of Kimbri_

Along with the note was what really drew the attention of the husband and wife, a hand drawn image of a beautiful baby girl with muted Hobbit features and an adorable grin. Beneath the drawing was a single word in elegant calligraphy:

Bilbori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Fun Fact of the Fic:** I chose Dilnobri as mama Ri's name simply because it contained all of the letters for what would become the brothers and sister names in the fic..._


	2. Welcome to the Shire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it was somehow missed at the end of the last chapter, I've changed the Took family tree a bit so that this version of Bilbo is the child of Gerontius instead of his grandchild. In later chapters I'll further change the Took family tree as well as the Baggins family tree because Belladonna will not be having her own Bilbo in this story. Bilbori was born exactly 50 years before canon Bilbo and I've adjusted this birth year with the canon characters they will interact with.
> 
> Also on ages, Tolkien says that Kili and Fili were the youngest by at least 50 years. And while he states Fili as the youngest at one point, with the birth years he gave them Kili is the youngest. So I've made Ori exactly 50 years older than Fili and 55 years older than Kili. With this Bilbo's changed birth year, Bilbori is 31 years younger than Ori and will be almost 19 when Fili is born. (Months count in age differences!) Not that they'll interact much before the quest...
> 
> Further on ages, since I have all the story birth year notes here in front of me, when this chapter _ends_ Dori will be 91, Nori will be 78, Ori will be 47, and Bilbori will be 15. For reference, Belladonna Took will be all of 4. This might have been easier if Tolkien had given us actual birth years to reference for the Ri brothers...

“Dorwi… Book!”

“Hmm?” Dori turned, looking up from where he was patiently fitting settings to some small topaz gems to decorate a dress order for some nobleman’s wife. He blinked at the tiny figure of his baby sister where she stood in his workroom, holding up one of the storybooks Nori of all dwarves had written when Ori was a baby. Instantly he was wary, a topaz held precariously in an unfinished setting. “What do you need, little one?”

Bilbori wasn’t impressed with Dori’s question, as indicated by the little huff she gave before holding the book higher. “Storwi, Dorwi!”

Knowing this was the time of day their mother set aside to work on her craft, for even though she was officially retired, she had spent decades devoted to her craft and couldn’t entirely leave it behind, Dori was wary of interrupting his own work… He knew he would anyway, he couldn’t say no to his baby sister, just as he hadn’t been able to deny Nori or Ori when they were little, but he still needed to go through a ritual they had before he ‘caved’ to her request.

“What about Ori?”

His little sister still wasn’t impressed, but she was at least amused by the question since they both knew perfectly well where Ori was at this time of day. “Wiff Bahwin!”

Dori couldn’t help the fond look he gave his sister. Her childish way of talking was rather amazing, since she was several years younger than when a dwarf first started to talk. “He’s with Balin, eh?” Dori pondered a moment, turning to his work to tweak one of the tines of a gem setting into place. As he tried to finish at least this one piece before story time, he asked Bilbori another question to help distract her from distracting him. “Do we need to go kidnap Ori and bring him home?”

“Yus.” The prompt answer was in a no-nonsense baby tone, but was followed quickly with. “Storwi firs’.”

“What about Nori? He did write the story, after all.” It was all he could manage not to scowl, no doubt that Nori was off getting into trouble that their mother would be too busy to smooth over and would finally finish turning Dori’s own hair silver.

Bilbori sighed, her four-year old mind growing bored with Dori’s stalling. “Nori twaining da guards.” She set the book down and used it as a sit-stool so she could watch Dori more comfortably.

The topaz slipped out of Dori’s fingers in his surprise and he turned to look at his sister. “He’s training the guards? When did that happen?”

The little girl shook her head, causing her braided curls to swing almost violently. “Dun know. He say dey get fat an’… Yazy?” She frowned, not sure if it was the right word. “Wiffout him. So Nori mus’ twain dem!” She beamed before noticing Dori had lost his topaz and scrambled up from the book to find it for him.

While Bilbori hunted for the lost topaz, Dori silently fumed. Of course Nori would try to make himself look better with their sister by making it seem he trained guards. He made a mental note to smack Nori upside his stupid head the next time he saw him. Outwardly he smiled as Bilbori handed him the topaz. He set it on his worktable and stood, swooping down to scoop up the tiny little girl. He nuzzled into her silky hair and made exaggerated kissing sounds into it that made her giggle. “Well, it looks like I’m the one reading you a story today then, beautiful.”

“Yay! Storwi!”

Dori grinned and collected the book before taking it and his sister out to the main room of their dwelling. He situated himself on a large, plush chair and Bilbori cuddled into his lap. Opening the book, Dori cleared his throat and began to read.

“In a cave in a mountain, there lived a dwarf. Not just any old cave, mind you. This was a dwarf cave, and that means wealth and splendor…”

 

\- - -

 

Time passed, as it tended to do when left unchecked, and their family really only changed physically. Dilnobri spent less and less time on her craft and more time being a busybody within the community as she ‘slowed’ down. Dori’s hair finally turned pure mithril in color. He lamented the loss of the auburn, mostly because the mithril color actually had more dwarfs bothering him with offers of courtship than he felt like bothering with than before. Nori came around slightly less often and, when asked, claimed that he was courting and might even move out one day soon… Of course he said that for four years straight without ever introducing the person he was courting to the family, so no one really believed him anymore. Ori finished a very thorough apprenticeship as a scribe and was working on becoming a well-known and accomplished journeyman. And Bilbori… Well, she was growing up far faster than any dwarf child would have.

Dwarves grew physically their entire lives. Of course, how they grew varied per individual and in ways other than height, reaching their final height around the time they turned seventy. Some dwarves grew wider, some stronger, and others, like Nori, had eyebrows that continued to grow while most stopped… Some dwarves were strange in just what about them continued to grow. Especially Ori’s master, Balin. It was a long held and whispered about joke that since reaching his full height Balin had reversed and was growing shorter over the years.

But Bilbori wasn’t a full dwarf. And now that she was fifteen and showing signs of developing curves that made Ori’s old clothes that she wore for play tighten in places most dwarves never had to worry about it was even more obvious. It was a strange thing to think of their sister growing up so quickly, but her features losing the beauty she had retained as a child and becoming more exotic with her mixed heritage made it something they couldn’t deny.

Dilnobri took the inevitable facts in stride. And she made sure her sons knew about things as well. “I’ll be taking Bori to meet her father soon.”

Well, just blurting it out at dinner to all four of her children probably wasn’t the best way to handle it, but considering she had once just left without telling anyone…

All four of the siblings paused eating and turned to their mother with various looks of surprise and one that was borderline defiance.

Dilnobri rolled her eyes. “I told you boys when I returned home pregnant with your sister. Hobbits aren’t like we are. The only way I could get her father to agree was by signing a contract saying she’d visit him at least twice for at least a year each time. He wants to spend her sixteenth birthday with her and Hobbits come of age at thirty-three, so he’s requested that as well.”

Ori and Dori accepted it; a contract was a contract after all. But Nori scooted his chair closer to Bilbori’s and wrapped an arm around her. “What if we don’t want our little Bori to be so far away for so long?” He was visibly gearing himself up for an argument and, from the way Dori bristled at Nori’s insolent tone, he was willing to take it up.

Dilnobri, having spent decades with the duo’s bickering, deflated it from the start. “Then go with her.” That had the collection of wide-eyed looks back on her. “Hobbits are very family oriented. They’d understand and welcome her brothers just as they’d welcome her.” She smiled fondly reached over the table to give one of Bilbori’s curls a gentle tug.

“Ma…” Bilbori blushed, tucking the recently tugged curl behind a pointed ear as she leaned into Nori’s reassuring hold. She hesitated, fingering the tip of her ear for a very brief moment before asking shyly. “Do you think he’ll like me?”

This, naturally, started all three of her brother’s ranting about how anyone would be crazy to not like her and just wait and see what they’d do if he didn’t… Bilbori buried her face in her hands and shook her head at the shouting while Dilnobri rolled her eyes.

Dilnobri reached out to take one of Bilbori’s hands from her face and pulled her closer so she could talk without interrupting the boys listing a series of vile threats on unknown hobbits. She tilted Bilbori’s face so that the girl was forced to meet her eyes and smiled gently. “Bilbori, he wanted me to have and raise you there in the Shire. The only reason I returned was because your brothers are helpless without me. There is nothing that would stop your father from liking you. He already loves you.”

Bilbori beamed even as her brothers went silent. This did not last long though as soon they started up again… About how they were not helpless and ‘could perfectly well take care of themselves, mother!’

 

\- - -

 

Hobbits, as it turned out, were exhausting.

Inevitably Dilnobri and Bilbori were joined by all three of the boys for the trip and the first thing they were subjected to was apparently a very large family in the works. For Bilbori’s father, the Thain of the hobbits, was apparently a very busy hobbit as Bilbori had four older hobbit brothers, four younger hobbit brothers, and a baby hobbit sister while her father’s wife had only recently announced that she had another baby on the way. It was rather overwhelming for dwarfs considering that Dilnobri’s four was considered a very large brood by dwarf standards. The exhausting impression was not helped at all by the fact that apparently the Tooks had been patiently waiting for them to arrive for a week and had a massive party arranged that started the moment Gerontius wrapped his arms around his half-dwarf daughter in greeting.

Needless to say, the culture-shocked dwarfs were on the verge of collapse by the time they were finally escorted to their rooms for the rest of the time they remained with the Tooks. They slept through the next day, partially from travel exhaustion, partially from party exhaustion, and partially in food comas.

The next few weeks were awkward as the dwarfs tried to fit in with the hobbits. Bilbori spent a lot of time speaking with her father, and sometimes his wife, telling him about herself and learning about hobbits. Ori was having the easiest time, treating it as an assignment. Considering that Bilbori had caught him writing down what he learned, she had no doubt he’d actually write a book and submit it as part of his scribe mastery project once he felt it was complete. Dilnobri seemed content resting outside in the warm, late summer months of the Shire when she wasn’t speaking with the various hobbit women and learning how their society worked. Dori, after the first few days of grumpily hovering, finally started to learn about the various materials the hobbits used to see if he’d be able to work out any kind of trade for his business. Nori… No one really knew what Nori was doing.

At least not until he returned to where his immediate family had secluded themselves away from the energetic Shirelings one evening and made an announcement to them.

“Bilbori is a princess.”

“What?”

“Really!?”

“Hmm…”

“Nori, what in the name of the maker are you talking about?” Everyone was tired, but Bilbori was curious enough to stir at that.

“The Shire used to be part of Arnor, but since that kingdom went splat they’re pretty much on their own and the hereditary position of Thain was created to fill in for the lack of a king. Technically they’re still part of Arnor, but no one has stepped up to reunite the kingdom. And guess who’s father was introduced to us as Thain?” Nori tweaked one of his sister’s braids.

Bilbori frowned. “No one acts like royalty here…”

“They wouldn’t, no.” Nori agreed. “They’re more like a wealthy, influential family that only butts into big disputes when they show no signs of being resolved. Very intelligent of them, if you ask me. This Shire is quite one of the most peaceful places I’ve ever ventured to.” He sprawled out next to, and half on top of, Bilbori causing her to crash into Ori who yelped over spilled ink since he’d been writing down this new information Nori had gleaned.

“Nori!” Bilbori shoved, but her brother was too solid to easily move and it wasn’t until Ori reached over, hauled Nori up, and tossed him onto the floor that she could breathe easily again.

“Not while I’m working!” Ori groused.

Amused at seeing the most irritating of his siblings getting tossed around, Dori decided to make his own less enjoyable announcement. “I’m heading back to Ered Luin the day after tomorrow.”

Dori should have realized this was a mistake as he instantly had both Ori and Bilbori giving him sad puppy eyes… And Nori joined in as well, most likely just to goad Dori than for any real desire for him to stay.

“You can’t leave, Dori!”

“Where would we be without you?”

“Yeah, Dori… They might actually grow up if you weren’t here to keep them in line…”

This resulted in both Ori and Bilbori smacking Nori upside his pointy-haired head.

“Ow!”

Rolling his eyes, Dori gave a huff. “Honestly, you three. I do have a business to run. And as much as I love you…” He gave Nori a stink-eye but didn’t change his words. “I miss work. Besides, you’ll be back before you miss me.”

“I don’t think its possible to be gone long enough to actually miss yo-OW!” Nori’s muttering was interrupted by a sharper cuff upside the head, this time from Dori, and another stink-eye.

“Stop abusing your poor brother.” Dilnobri intervened, reaching out to snag Nori by his sleeve and pull him in for a cuddle. He went red in the face and flailed gently, but ultimately didn’t do anything except give their mother a hug and stick his tongue out at his siblings. “You know how sensitive he is…”

Bilbori, Dori, and Ori burst out laughing when Nori blanched and protested his ‘sensitivity’ to the suddenly deaf ears of their mother. She pressed a kiss to her middle son’s forehead and made her own announcement. “I’ll be returning to the mountain with Dori.”

The four siblings gasped, all of them surprised by this turn of events and Dilnobri smiled. “As much as I would love to retire in the warmth of the Shire… My presence still makes Adamanta uncomfortable. It most likely always will. So I will be returning.” Ori and Nori started to make protests and Dilnobri rolled her eyes. “Don’t think I don’t know you’ve already gotten permission to remain here to work on a book about Hobbits from Master Balin, Ori… And we all knew Nori wouldn’t be returning until our little Bori did… So you three will be perfectly fine until you’re ready to return. Now… Give your ma some cuddles and love, we have several months worth to store up.” She held her arms out and soon her youngest three were curled up with her.

Two days later, Dilnobri and Dori left Tuckborough to return to the Blue Mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added the 'consent issues' tag rather belatedly, I'll admit. But it was for the very reason of how I have procreation of dwarves working in this fic. The women aren't really given a choice, though since its their culture they don't see it as what it really is... Questionable consent. So yeah, added that tag.


	3. Bilbo Took

The day of her sixteenth birthday Bilbori, daughter of Dilnobri, also known as Bori, son of Nobri, gained a third name. Her father had spoken with her several times about it and they had decided that since dwarf women were precious that having a hobbit name would be acceptable for use in the Shire or any time she felt uncomfortable, for any reason, with identifying herself as a dwarf. So when it came time to blow out the candles on the large cake her stepmother had baked and decorated, the birthday wishes were given not to Bilbori, but to Bilbo Took.

With the discussions of familiar names and family names also came a discussion on gender identities. It was something Gerontius had really been dying to know since the day a dwarf had shown up on the stoop of the Great Smials, introduced itself as Nobri, son of Kimri, and informed him that the Maker had sent it to Gerontius to bring forth a child that would better the race of dwarves.

“It’s hard to explain.” Bilbori said. “I’ve grown up with it, so I’m not sure how to explain it so that someone can understand.” She hesitated. “Mostly its for protection. Because we’re small most people tend to underestimate us and think they can exploit us.”

Gerontius agreed. “Yes, we have that trouble with big folk as well. The ones that had never dealt with us before at any rate.”

Bilbori gave her father a gentle smile. “Then you understand how people of the race of Men can look at the women of a smaller race as well, right? They hardly honor their own women, let alone respect those of a race they already look down upon.” At his frowning nod, she continued. “You know from experience with mother that dwarf women have a definite female shape, but you also know from meeting my brothers that it is not as different from the shape of our men. Unlike the larger differences in shape between the other races.” She gave a slight smirk. “Though from the drawings I’ve seen of elves they’re all similarly shaped like stretched out twigs.”

Gerontius couldn’t help but chuckle at the observation even as he heard Bilbori mutter something about how even elves probably had difficulty telling them apart. And, since she was on a roll, Bilbori made him laugh when adding that this was probably the reason elves lived so long, trying to figure out if one was a lad or a lass…

Pleased to have made him laugh, Bilbori went back to her explanation. “So since our men and women look so alike in shape, why should we not take advantage of that wearing clothes when traveling that conceal the tiny differences and pass ourselves off as men?” Seeing understanding in Gerontius’s eyes, Bilbori nodded. “Though there are some both men and women who care not if they are seen as either, with us it is easy to slip from one role to another. A young dwarf can have a mother and a father, can introduce them as such, and yet both of the parents may be male or female. We care not. Any dwarf that identifies as a woman is respected as such.”

Bilbori waved her hand dismissing the notion. “So to the outside world we present as entirely male. Inside our communities…” She gave a slight grin. “Mother is one of the highest ranking dwarfs in our city. While we have kings to present as figureheads to the outside, the real rulings come from the women and it is more like a council. I’m only just learning about the council myself. I sit with mother sometimes as her heir apparent, but it won’t be until I find my own craft and establish my role in the community that I will gain my own rank and voice in our kingdom.”

Gerontius hummed with thought. “So dwarves show themselves as monarchies, but you’re really more of a meritocracy.” He considered this information. “Why do the women rule instead of all dwarves being given places then?”

To his surprise, Bilbori laughed at the question.

“Because dwarf men are _stupid_.” She said it so emphatically that Gerontius could swear she’d been talking to Adamanta for her opinion on hobbit men. “Our records indicate that at one time they attempted to combine the outer society and the inner society… But the men wouldn’t have it.” Bilbori rolled her eyes. “You know the tale of how dwarves were created. And thanks to mother you know that dwarf women can hear the call of our Maker. We call it Mahal’s Gift. It is how we know who will be the fathers of our children to bring about the best for future generations. Since we actually hear it and our men don’t, the men decided that makes us closer to the Maker and so they’re naturally inclined to listen to us instead of realizing he loves us equally.”

To say Gerontius was stunned by that was putting it mildly. Eventually he cleared his throat. “So what you’re saying is… Dwarf men are stupid?”

Bilbori almost fell out of her chair laughing.

In the end, it came down to that Bilbori would appreciate it if the non-immediate family considered Bilbo Took one of Gerontius’s sons. If for no other reason than that it would keep the world guessing as to just how a male hobbit had managed to have a child with a race of males.

That was another thing they laughed about.

 

\- - -

 

Nori ended up being insanely popular with the Tooks and Brandybucks. He let them join in on Bilbori’s daily weapons lessons and would teach them tricks he had learned for sneaking around and stealing cookies. Brandybucks and Tooks were already considered wild by Shire standards and his effect only had them being considered more and more strange by the more prudish hobbit families.

Ori became almost universally adored for his sweet demeanor and love of learning. He’d sit in with the lessons of young hobbits to see how they were taught their letters, numbers, and history. He’d take notes and, when asked, would help tutor the young hobbits in their numbers. He was also willing to go out and help in the fields learning from the farmers. Ori’d spend the nights writing after a day in the field, committing everything he’d learned to paper.

Bilbori was learning to cook. It had started soon after they arrived at the Great Smials and Adamanta, stating a desire to be involved with her husband’s daughter as well, was insistent that Bilbori learn Adamanta’s specialties first. These had included embroidery, crochet, and cooking lessons. And her stepmother was questioning her at the same time.

“I can understand not having brought any with you, your pack could only hold so much after all, but would it really hurt to have at least one hobbit style dress for when you sit for the family portrait?” Adamanta was firm on having them all sit for a family portrait as soon as she found an artist she liked. She could already tell that Bilbori was wavering. “You may decide you don’t want to keep up the lad guise forever. And what if you find yourself a husband here in the Shire as you get older?”

“Why does dressing like a lad or lass have anything to do with finding a husband?” That statement baffled Bilbori.

Adamanta waved her hand dismissively. “Well what if you’re just in the mood for the flouncing of skirts around your calves then? We can get you some hobbit-style lad clothes as well.”

Bilbori made a face. “Wouldn’t going to a clothes smith go against claiming I’m a lad?”

“Clothes smith?” Adamanta took a moment to puzzle that out. “We call them tailors or seamstresses. And you wouldn’t have to go. We could take your measures here and take them in for you.” She moved over to check Bilbori’s rather well made tunic. “Who made your clothing?”

“Dori makes all my clothing. I do have some dresses, but I don’t take them when traveling.”

“Well then you definitely need something for here. Once we’ve finished making luncheon we’ll get your measures. Oh! It’ll be lovely… And I’ll have some practice for when Belladonna gets older.”

After that Bilbori couldn’t really say no.

“Do you always wear boots, dear?”

“No.” Bilbori sliced up some cold meats for sandwiches to go with the soup she and Adamanta had been making. “My feet are tougher than my brothers, so at home I tend to run around without boots. But I got used to wearing them when not at home because of an incident with a red hot silver bead an apprentice smith had dropped.”

Adamanta froze, looking horrified.

Bilbori didn’t notice, instead turning an almost delighted grin to the hobbitess. “I have a lovely scar from it. It curves from the arch and presses into my heel. Do you want to see?”

It was on the tip of Adamanta’s tongue to say no, but she was morbidly curious to see the damage hot metal could do to a young hobbit’s foot… Not to mention seeing a half-hobbit’s foot! “Yes…”

Setting the food she had been preparing aside, Bilbori quickly washed her hands and dropped to sit on the floor. She made quick work of her bootlaces and pulled them off to show the scar to her stepmother.

Adamanta’s first thought was: How cute! Bilbori’s feet were smaller than a hobbit of her age would normally have. Judging from what she remembered of the other dwarfs though, they were the proper size for a dwarf. Instead of hair as thick as fur like hobbits had, the halfling’s feet had a layer that was more akin to peach fuzz. Then she saw the scar. It wasn’t like how she had pictured, gory and possibly still leaking blood. Instead it was a pale silvery pink that looked glossy against the unmarred skin. It started at the instep and curled to a dimpled hole on the heel, almost exactly how Bilbori described it.

“Hmm. Did you want to go barefoot here? You wouldn’t be teased and there’s no hot metal to worry about.”

Bilbori considered. “You know, I think I will. Just let me put my boots in my room and I’ll come back to help finish luncheon.”

And that was what they did.

 

\- - -

 

A little more than a month later Donnamira Took was born. The hobbits thought it a bit strange how wildly their dwarf relatives celebrated the birth, but Gerontius knew it was because women were held in high regard among their kind and so was indulgent of his daughter and her brothers.

“We have another sister!” Bilbori spun gently, holding Belladonna in her arms and twirling around Nori who was holding Donnamira while Ori tied a tiny knitted bonnet onto her head.

“Can never have too many sisters.” Ori agreed as he finished off the ties. He then snagged Bilbori mid-twirl and tugged her over to fit a similar bonnet onto Belladonna’s head. “I’d have made you one too, Bori… If I didn’t know you hated how they make your braids itch.”

“Ori, did you knit kitten ears onto this thing?” Nori lifted up Donnamira enough to show the ears on the bonnet.

“Kitty ears?” Belladonna lifted her tiny hands to her own bonnet. She frowned when the ‘ears’ she felt were rounded instead of pointed.

“Donnamira’s still a sweet little kitten.” Ori informed Belladonna. Before she could protest that she was sweet too, he continued. “You, little Belladonna, are a ferocious and brave little bear.”

Belladonna considered this seriously, thinking about what little she’d heard about bears. “Yup, I can be the bear.” She agreed.

“I’m kind of jealous now.” Bilbori said. “I don’t have any cute ears on a bonnet.”

“It would still make your braids itch. What kind of ears would you want anyway? Bunny ears?” Ori flapped his hands up on the sides of his head in an obnoxious attempt at mimicking bunny ears.

Belladonna giggled.

Bilbori made a disgusted sound at her brother. She reached out, pressed her hand against his face, and shoved, knocking him back on his rear.

Belladonna’s giggles turned into a squeal of laughter that was soon joined by Nori’s laugh.

A soft giggle drew their attention to Donnamira as she had her first laugh with them at Ori’s expense and soon they were once more cooing over the tiny hobbitling.

 

\- - -

 

Time moved on as the two dwarfs and the half dwarf learned more about the Shire and their hobbit family. Winter celebrations were welcome affairs. Spring planting was something everyone joined in on. And early summer harvests of the quick growing foods made a welcome change to the foods. Ori continued compiling notes on the Shire. Nori kept active, teaching himself new tricks when he wasn’t teaching the young hobbits and his sister. And Bilbori started dabbling in the various crafts that could be found in the Shire.

It was inevitable, but neither Nori nor Ori were pleased when they discovered their darling baby sister sitting in with woodcarving apprentices as she attempted to learn their craft. Dwarves were generally in their twenties when they finally started poking at crafts so they didn’t really appreciate the reminder that their little sister matured faster than dwarfs.

Ori wrote home with the updates and took little comfort in the blasé response from their mother that Bilbori would be exactly what she was meant to be. Dori’s panicked demands that they keep their baby sister away from dangerous things like carving knives was a bit more mollifying. Thankfully Bilbori decided that woodcarving was useful, but it didn’t call to her and she moved on before Ori could try to carry out Dori’s wish.

Nori decided to go to Gerontius for his opinion. “Isn’t there some way to keep her from doing this? Surely hobbits don’t start their crafts so young.”

Gerontius had learned early on in their stay that Nori and Ori were a bit overprotective of Bilbori. Not to mention Bilbori herself had told him that dwarf men were _stupid_ … So he rolled his eyes. “Hobbits don’t generally have what you call a craft. We’re mostly farmers. And you saw how even Belladonna was helping with the farm when planting season came around. I was honestly surprised when Bilbo told me that she’d never done anything except read, write, and run wild around that mountain of yours when we discussed that kind of thing.” Gerontius eyed the star-haired dwarf. “She did say she’d sometimes sit in with her mother on council meetings, but that it was a relatively recent thing. Do young dwarfs really do nothing but play? Sounds kind of boring to me…”

Nori gave Gerontius a long look before responding. “Dwarfs have it hard. No matter what we really are, we’re considered greedy and violent. We teach the young ones to read, write, and defend themselves. But aside from that, we’re indulgent to let them just be children until they have to grow up. They start looking for crafts when they feel they’re ready, not when we make them.”

Gerontius raised an eyebrow. “And doesn’t that seem like what your sister is doing? Looking for a craft because she’s ready?”

Nori, realizing he’d been beaten by his own logic, was gracious enough to only mutter, “You’re no help…” As he left Gerontius’s office.

Gerontius’s laugh followed him out the door.

 

\- - -

 

Bilbori’s seventeenth birthday came and went.

Another winter happened.

Donnamira was running around on sturdy little hobbit feet and talking in incomplete sentences when the next spring planting arrived.

Having not found a craft in the Shire that called to her, Bilbori, Ori, and Nori packed up after the spring planting and said their goodbyes for the time being. It was time to return to the mountain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random: Is it possible that Hobbits is not only a general term, but a masculine term and that female 'Hobbits' are really 'Hobbettes?'


	4. The Call of a Craft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Bifur: In the book version of The Hobbit, Bifur does not have an axe in his head, he does not have trouble with speaking, he even has some spoken lines in the book. So in this chapter he has no such injury. I haven't yet made a firm decision on if he will get an axe in his head before the retaking of Erebor or not. It can go either way at this point. There's still a couple of chapters before we reach that point anyway.

The night of their return to Belegost, and for nearly a week after, all of the Ri siblings slept cuddled around their mother until she got tired of them hogging her small bed and sent them back to their rooms.

 

\- - -

 

The mother of the Ri line had been the older sister of Náin I and daughter of Durin VI. Her name had been Dainári. By her own admission she had given her only child to a young couple instead of keeping it as the young royal it was because she had a dream while pregnant that it was important for the line of Durin to branch away for a time. So while the Ri line had always been well cared for, they were not considered royalty. When Durin’s Bane had driven them out during the rule of her brother the family that had taken the babe had gotten separated from the Durin family in the commotion. They ended up fleeing west toward the Blue Mountains while the main Durin line had fled east to Erebor.

For many years Dilnobri had been considered exotic because of her classic Longbeard features in a city where most looked like the Broadbeams that had taken in the refuges from Khazad-dûm. She was two hundred and four when the refuges of Erebor finally arrived in Belegost and she met her distant cousins for the first time. Her young cousins Thorin II, already called Oakenshield, and Dís accepted these distant cousins readily, though their father Thráin II was lost in grief for the recent loss of his father and youngest son.

Thráin set up his own kingdom just north of the city of Belegost. But shattered by first the loss of Erebor followed by thirty years of wandering and then the massacre at the gates of Khazad-dûm, most of the younger Longbeards freely mingled with the citizens of Belegost. Not even a year after Bilbori was born Thráin took to wandering and eventually disappeared. In his absence, Thorin worked to fully integrate the remains of Erebor in with the existing community of Belegost.

Despite Thorin’s efforts to encourage integration, it was actually the combining of the women’s societies central to their community that took the longest to sort out. There were no battles, but most of the core of Erebor’s inner society had perished during Smaug’s attack and they hadn’t been able to reform it properly in the time it took them to arrive in the Blue Mountains. It ended up taking over a decade for the ranks of women to assess their value and merge with the existing structure. Dilnobri managed to retain her rank as none of the gem cutter women that had survived Erebor were above journeyman level even though she was no longer the only exotic Longbeard among Broadbeams anymore.

So while her mother and brothers could remember a time before the Longbeards arrived, the combined society was all Bilbori knew. She could tell the differences: their looks were more along the lines of her mother and like any good dwarfling she had learned early how to tell family lines and ranks by beads and decorations on clothing for those who didn’t bother with their hair. And though she was technically a Longbeard by blood and the matriarchal power of the Ri Line, Bilbori had to say she liked the Broadbeams more.

There were several reasons for this but the most important to her was a dwarf named Bifur. Though he had some ancestors that had fled west from Khazad-dûm with the Ri family, Bifur was a Broadbeam through and through. And more importantly, he was young, only a year older than Dori, and newly mastered in the craft that called to Bilbori’s heart… Rune crafting.

Bilbori was twenty-seven when she finally found her craft and became Bifur’s first apprentice. Rune crafting was fascinating and unique to the Broadbeam contingent of Belegost, for the last of the Ereborean rune crafters had perished before Khazad-dûm.

Rune crafting was not a fancy way of calling someone a writer. For while they did work with words, rune crafters learned to call upon the power of the stone and trace the runes with yet more runes to imbue the words with power. They were the magic wielders of the dwarf nations.

Bifur took delight in teaching Bilbori because she was different. Dwarf rune crafters stuck with stones, gems, and metal. But Bilbori’s mixed heritage gave a shifting to her ability to carve runes. So while her talent and interest definitely lay in rune crafting, she was just different enough in wielding it that the other masters were wary of inducting her. Had Bifur not seen it as a challenge to himself as well as her, chances are she would have been denied her apprenticeship.

So nearly every morning she would throw on her clothes, rush through breakfast, gather her luncheon basket, and charge out the door. Her feet would take her out of the residential district and deep into the mountain. Beyond the entrances to the deep mines and women’s council chambers to where the Rune Crafters taught the basics of their crafts. She’d nearly plow into Bifur in her enthusiasm before handing him a treat from her basket and set about gathering her apprentice tools while he enjoyed the treat.

“You spoil me, little one.” Bifur chuckled as he had many times before.

“Good. You need spoiling.” Bilbori paused at the tray of soft clays. “Which will we need today?”

“The blue. I’m going to start teaching you to make a basic hand light today.”

“Will it go to the miners?”

“If you do it right.” Bifur agreed as he seated himself at their workstation across from where Bilbori seated herself before placing a small blue clay sphere to the side. “Now the lines for a basic light simply say ‘This is my light, bright in the night.’”

Bilbori tittered, the simple children rhymes of the basic rune patterns always amusing her. Bifur thumped her head at the titter and she obediently picked up a fountain pen and piece of parchment to write out the lines with ink so she wouldn’t mess up.

“Now at the rune mark for a light is like this.” Bifur drew a rune unique to dwarf magic. “Changing the mark like this…” He demonstrated. “Adjusts how bright the light will become. Changing it on the other side will make it darker. The length of the change indicates how much darker or brighter you want it.” He waited until she drew out both alterations. “Now write the mark again, showing me how you want the light to change.”

Bilbori decided on a brighter light as she wrote out the rhyme and changing mark until she felt satisfied with the line indicating the brightness level. She fussed with the indicator line until she finally felt satisfied and showed him the paper.

“Good, ready to try?”

“Yes, Master Bifur.”

She picked up her crafter’s loupe, which was similar to those used by the jewelers and gem cutters, but had much stronger magnification settings. Putting it on her head, she blinked her magnified eyes at Bifur, grinned, and then picked up her basic iron stylus and the blue clay sphere. As she started to carefully etch the light rune with the brightness marker into the surface of the sphere, Bifur began to speak softly.

Bifur’s words were not meant to interrupt, they were meant to help the student focus on what they should be thinking and feeling as they worked, helping them channel their grasp of magic into what they want. A journeyman would be able to keep their focus without this constant, repetitive reminder, but it was invaluable to the apprentices.

Once Bilbori had the light rune properly etched into the clay surface she increased the magnification of her loupe and changed out her stylus for one with a thinner point. Taking a deep breath, Bilbori started the precision task of writing out the light rhyme repeatedly inside the larger rune. When she finished that, she would increase the magnification again and write the change for a thinner yet stylus to write the rhyme inside the rhyme. The entire time she worked, Bifur’s gentle voice constantly reminded her to pull on the magic she could feel tingling on her skin and push it into the words she was writing.

As they frequently did, both Bilbori and Bifur lost track of time as they worked and were exhausted when Bilbori finally drew the last line into the clay. In the same time it took her to painstakingly etch in the runes for a single hand light, Bifur had made half a dozen and Bilbori admired the show of what she would be able to do once she became familiar with the work.

Bifur picked up the clay spheres and put them in the kiln kept heated all hours of the day for the rune crafters while Bilbori spread out the double meal she had brought in the basket for them to share. She was trembling slightly from channeling the magic and always needed the pick-me-up of eating after working. They ate while waiting for the day’s project to harden.

As they ate, Bifur watched Bilbori’s hands. The trembling grew less the more she ate. “I think that your hobbit heritage is one of the reasons you are so drained when you work.” Before she could take umbrage at his words, he raised a hand in peace. “I have been watching you, as I should, when you work. From what we know of hobbits, they are more in tune with the world than dwarves.”

Bilbori tilted her head, listening.

“You have told me many times that you feel the magic of the world all the time. As far as I know, only some dwarves can feel magic, and then it is only when they are actually trying to feel it. I think that your sensitivity to the magic around us means you have your own magic inside of you. So when you work, you are pulling out some of your own magic and putting it into what you make. Perhaps that is why the Shire grows so well and why hobbits eat so often, they are using their own magic without realizing it.”

“So what does this mean, Master Bifur?”

“It means that I think we should focus on your magic for a short time, to see if we can separate what is you from what you feel of the world. If we can do that, then you can perhaps learn to not use your own magic for things that can easily be powered by borrowing from the earth. We don’t want to completely drain you and risk your health, after all. And if we can separate your magic, we can also look at it from a different angle, to see how it might be used. Perhaps you can grow a vein of gold like a tree?”

“Is that what we will do tomorrow? Work on separating my magic?”

Bilbori cleaned up while Bifur went to retrieve the spheres. He set them out, keeping Bilbori’s separated from the others, and waited for her to rejoin him before handing her the general use apprentice’s Rune Mallet. A Rune Mallet was a small hammer engraved with runes specifically designed to activate the runes worked into other projects. Making her own Rune Mallet would be her final project as an apprentice.

“No, tomorrow you will take the day off. I plan on spending it with my cousins, it’s Bombur’s birthday.”

“Many happy returns.” Bilbori stated promptly at the news. She twirled the mallet nervously for a moment before swinging it in a gentle tap against her sphere.

The sphere lit up like a star.

 

\- - -

 

Learning her new craft was not the only thing Bilbori did with her days. Like all young dwarfs she had spent time in the other crafts as well and, like all young dwarfs, had used those craft dabbling to make her own personal weapons. Her preferred weapon of choice was one called a kama, styled after the small hand sickles farmers used and which she had adored during harvests in the Shire. Since the chances of her actually going to battle were slim, she had done as most non-warriors did and made her kama, of which she had two, beautiful as well as functional.

The steel blades had stylized blood splatters cut out of them. The ends of the handles were encrusted with tiny crystal chips and the part where she regularly held them was lined with obsidian. On a whim she had gotten Dori to teach her how to affix satin onto metal and wrapped green satin ribbons around the handles. And, like any good dwarf, she practiced when she had a chance.

“C’mon, Bori… Get those fancy sickles of yours and come with me.” Nori barely gave her a chance to grab her kama before dragging her out of their house.

“I’ve already practiced today, Nori.”

“I know you have, that’s not what we’re doing.”

“And?” Bilbori prompted when Nori didn’t say anything and continued to drag her along. “What are we doing?”

“You only practice alone or with me, Bori. That’s not good. You know my moves; you need to practice with others.” So saying, Nori dragged her into the guard-training field.

That reminded Bilbori of something she routinely asked. “When are you going to tell Dori that you really are a guard trainer?”

Not that it did any good to ask, Nori merely responded the same way he always did. “When that face he makes thinking I’m a real thief stops being amusing. That reminds me, I’m going to teach you to be a thief, too. Want to send Dori into a fit and tell him?”

Bilbori took the thief lessons decision in stride, merely rolling her eyes. “Unlike you, I don’t find amusement in making my big brother go into fits.”

Nori stopped and stared at her.

“What? I didn’t say anything about not finding the fits you send him into funny, I just said I don’t like making him have the fits.”

Nori laughed before turning and thrusting her in the direction of one of the guards. “He hasn’t been in a real battle yet, Bori… Don’t hurt him too much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bilbori's Kama](http://seien.0x44.me/HobbitFicStuff/Bilbori-Kama.jpg)
> 
> Random Book Fact: Azanulbizar was the final battle in a six-year long war that started with Azog cutting off Thrór's head and ended with Dáin (later King Dáin II Ironfoot) slaying Azog.


	5. Braids and Carts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote most of this chapter months ago, so if it seems a bit awkward that's why. I liked the scenes though, and had to use them. This was the spot in the story's timeline they fit in.

The next time Bilbori and her small dwarf family went to the Shire was in preparation for her brother Isumbras’s wedding the summer before her thirty-third birthday. The time before the wedding and the wedding itself was a blur of non-stop activity that left them exhausted and sleeping the day after the celebrations. The day after the recovery, Dori and Dilnobri made their routine departure and the remaining Ri siblings settled into their Shire routine with only minimal alterations.

Ori was even more of a teacher, having advanced well into the journeyman stage of his craft. And when he wasn’t teaching the little hobbits, he was learning how to knit Shire patterns from Adamanta.

Nori spent his time lounging around and doing nothing… Or he spent it charming the hobbits into giving him biscuits, tarts, or pies... Or he was playing with the new crop of hobbitlings that had been produced since their last visit. The story changed depending on who was asked.

When not being dragged around by one or another of her many relations, Bilbori worked on designing her Rune Mallet.

 

\- - -

 

“May I braid your hair, Bilbo?” Belladonna’s fingers hovered over the ends of her older sister’s curls.

Bilbori turned, looking down at the shorter Belladonna before giving her a smile. “Certainly, Bella.” She moved to sit down so that the tweenaged hobbit could more easily reach her hair.

Belladonna’s face was pleased and she easily took the carved ivory comb that Bilbori had pulled from a pocket and was holding out for her. She combed the curls that were longer than Hobbit lasses generally wore their hair, giving smug looks toward where their teen sisters Donnamira and Mirabella were stuck practicing their letters under Ori’s guidance. Once she had it combed, Belladonna separated out a lock and began plaiting it. Partway into the plait she pulled it loose and attempted it again. And again… And again…

On the fifth restart of the same lock, Bilbori reached out to take hold of one of Belladonna’s hands. “What’s wrong, Bella love?”

Voice full of frustration, Belladonna looked on the verge of tears. “I can’t get it right.”

“Get what right?” Bilbori was baffled.

“Your braid…”

This did little to ease Bilbori’s confusion. “I’ve seen you braid before, Belladonna. What’s the fuss now?”

Belladonna sniffled, “I can’t make your special dwarf braids.”

“Special… Dwarf braids…” There was no sign of comprehension on Bilbori’s face.

Frustrated, Belladonna shook the curled lock she still held as if that would explain the situation. “Your dwarf braids! The ones you always wear to tell people who you are!”

Bilbori finally seemed to begin to comprehend what Belladonna’s problem was and she laughed. When Belladonna started to get in a right proper fit over the laughter, Bilbori calmed herself down. “That’s just…” She shook her head fondly. “Belladonna Took, are you listening to whispers about dwarves again? What exactly are my braids supposed to say?”

Off to the side, Ori bit his lip.

Seeing that her older sister at last understood, Belladonna was quick to explain the matter as she knew it. “They tell everything. From what family you have to who is courting you to what craft you have!”

Bilbori made a valiant effort to contain it, she truly did, but the puppy-look of excitement on Belladonna’s face at her explanation was just too much and she broke into an almost hysterical bout of laughter, which Ori joined. Donnamira and Mirabella gave up all pretense of working on their letters to stare with fascination as their big dwarf sister and brother gasped for air around their giggles. Belladonna was on the verge of going for her mother’s rolling pin in her righteous indignation at having her explanation laughed at.

When Bilbori finally managed to regain control, the laughing had managed to bring two or three of their hobbit brothers into the room. She sat up, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes and giving a random little hiccup of laughter for a few minutes as she struggled for control. And then she could speak again, a grin hurting her cheeks as she did. She paused to throw a nearby cushion at Ori to get him to stop. “Is that really what they say about dwarf braids?”

Belladonna was suddenly struck with a fit of bashfulness at the attention and nodded her head cautiously. This only caused Bilbori’s grin to grow.

“Do you remember the dwarf I told you about? Balin? The one that’s the king’s advisor and Ori’s craft master?” Bilbori glanced around, noticing several of her enraptured siblings nodding their heads. “Do you think that he would be an important person to make note of?” More nods. She nodded sagely, agreeing with the youngsters. “Yes, Balin is very important. He’s powerful, a skilled warrior, the king’s cousin, and his husband adores him…” There were several appreciative noises at that list. “And he doesn’t wear a single braid or bead anywhere.”

Bilbori’s siblings gasped at this news and a few twitters of speculation were heard before she finally relieved their curiosity. “So you see, dwarfs don’t use braids to tell such things. They can and some traditional dwarves do use them for that purpose, but there just isn’t enough time to study everyone’s braids or beads all of the time. And that’s not even mentioning what would happen if someone were careless and caught their hair on fire…” She lowered her tone to a soft whisper. “That happened to Balin’s baby brother one day, got into a fight in the forges and poof!”

A choked sound turned Bilbori’s attention to Nori lounging in a shadow and she grinned before joining her other siblings in conspiratorial giggles over the fate of Dwalin’s hair, she put the comb back into Belladonna’s hand. “Now there actually is one meaning to braids, but it’s actually a lot like the meaning for this.” Bilbori reached out and poked Belladonna’s little Hobbit potbelly.

Several understanding gasps filled the room before her age-matched brother Hildigrim, who had snuck in at some point, spoke up. “Really?” His tone was slightly incredulous. “Braids are a luxury?”

“An indulgence, yes.” Bilbori nodded firmly, her eyes still alight with amusement. “So while Balin is very important, he is much too busy with all of his important work to bother with braids. And you’ve seen the Ri braids, right?” There were nods all around, for the small dwarf family always arrived in Tuckborough together though Dori and Dilnobri always left before the first week was over. “It takes ages for us to twist our hair up into our braids. But that’s because we can afford to spend so much time playing with our hair. And you should see us when we’re busy with work orders… Hair everywhere with barely a single clasp to keep it out of the way…”

The full Hobbits were grinning at the images of their pseudo brothers with loose hair before Bilbori leaned forward, eyes full of conspiracy as she dropped into a whisper again. “Dori looks like a dandelion fluff in the mornings!”

Laughter erupted at the image of prim Dori looking like a dandelion, growing louder when Nori stretched his hands up to demonstrate how big Dori’s fluff was when left untended.

Bilbori leaned back, looking exceedingly satisfied before looking at the eldest of her younger sisters. “Now, I would be very pleased to have some Belladonna braids.” She stressed Belladonna’s name and was rewarded with a beaming smile before her hair was slowly twisted up into a new braid style.

A few days later she wore a different braid from each member of the family to her thirty-third birthday party.

And, if the next time Dori came to visit he was presented with a crown made out of dandelions, well… Bilbori couldn’t be blamed for the frantic burst of laughter that choked her the entire time he humored their little hobbit siblings and wore the thing for them.

 

\- - -

 

Bilbori Took became something of a minor hero in the Shire during the late summer before her thirty-fourth birthday. While at first the presence of her and her dwarf family was whispered about by the horrible gossips, the large Took family adored them. Admittedly most of the Shire thought Bilbori was a boy, and if it ever slipped that she wasn’t then the gossips would have a field day! The whispers usually tapered off shortly after Dilnobri and Dori went back to the Blue Mountains… Back on topic, Bilbori was something of a hero. And this was entirely because she was useful in a way that Hobbits could appreciate.

She could use a forge, though it was only when necessary to repair items, as she said her calling was for another craft. She was armed, like every dwarf they had ever heard of, but her chosen weapon was so much like a farm tool that no one was really surprised one harvest when she pulled it from her belt and used it as if it were just any old sickle lying around. She could swim and she and her brothers were willing to teach all the Hobbits willing to learn how to swim as well. She wasn’t afraid to join her brothers and chase off the occasional stray predator that found its way into the Shire. And she was frighteningly strong by Hobbit standards.

Within the Blue Mountains dwarf strength is taken for granted. Everyone was strong and only grew stronger with age. According to Bilbori, she was just under average strength for a dwarf. This was amazing in itself because she was only half dwarf, but she said it was because of Nobri’s line and that her eldest brother Dori was the strongest dwarf ever with Ori second. Admittedly the middle of her dwarf brothers was only just above average, but Nobri’s call toward Nori’s father had been for agility, not strength.

But to Hobbits Bilbori was very, very strong.

The day Bilbori became a minor hero was the day she willingly, and for hours, walked behind a cart. This wasn’t just any walk, though. No… Bilbori had been walking with her brother Isengrim, heading toward Hobbiton, when they came across Cottar Cotton as he fussed over what was obviously his wagon… his broken wagon. The pony was still harnessed to it, one wheel was stuck in a bad rut that wasn’t easily noticed on the lane, and the rear axel was obviously broken. The wagon was half full of carefully carved braces, the kind Hobbits used to shore up the walls and ceilings of their holes.

“Gracious, Mister Cotton… What happened here?” Isengrim exclaimed, rushing over to, as near as Bilbori could tell, fuss at the wagon the same way that Cottar was.

“Oh! Masters Took.” Cottar blinked at Isengrim and Bilbori with some surprise. “Well, Adalgar Bolger ordered some new braces for an addition to his smial and I was on my way to deliver them… Its Carnation’s first time on the wagon and well, she took a start and the wheel hit the rut just wrong, it did.” He ran a hand over the skittish young pony’s flank, clucking soothingly to her.

Isengrim grimaced in thought. “S’pose we could go back to Tuckborough and get our wagon for you to borrow.” He gave a decisive nod. “Why don’t we go ahead and unhitch Carnation? No sense…”

His words abruptly cut off as the wagon shifted to the side and then the entire back end of it lifted clear off the ground. Both Isengrim and Cottar stared dumbly at the sight for a full minute before an amused snort came, followed by a polite clearing of a throat. They turned as one to see Bilbori giving them a small smile while standing there, holding up the rear end of the wagon in her hands, casual as can be.

“So… We’re going to Mister Bolger’s, right?”

A tip of her head toward the pony had Cottar fluster about before moving to lead the pony. Isengrim was almost left behind as he continued to stare in pure shock at his younger sister.

“Wait for me!” He suddenly blurted out, coming alive as he scrambled to catch up. Not that they’d gone far with the slow pace Cottar set, but still.

And that was how Bilbori became a hero and, upon arriving at the Bolger smial, acquired a small pack of admirers. Two hours of half carrying a partially loaded wagon and then helping fix the thing… It was too late to go to Hobbiton that day by the time they finished, but Isengrim and Bilbori enjoyed the night at the Bolgers’ before heading to Hobbiton the next day. Of course a couple of new admirers followed them and soon all of Hobbiton knew about the wagon rescue…

Afterward the gossip was still there, but it was generally kinder.

 

\- - -

 

The year’s apple harvesting festival was just starting. Nori, Ori, and Bilbori were working with the Took clan, bravely scaling trees for the best apples. They’d go through their bushels later that night to find the best of their haul to enter into the contest for best picker. Near the end of the apple harvesting there’d be another contest to see if the winner from the beginning could hold their title for the year. The dwarves found it silly, but being able to tell which trees would give the best was a big thing in the Shire.

Already apples that were not shuffled into the ‘potential winner’ bushels were being turned into early pies, jams, tarts, sauces, juices, and ciders… The outdoor ovens near the orchard filled the air with the most wonderful aromas and it was not uncommon for those in the trees to retreat for quick snacks of the items being prepared. Soon they’d be sick of apples which would let the rest of the harvest that year be more evenly paced out until the next harvest.

Bilbori was admiring a particularly red and shiny apple, certain it would be a good contender for the night’s winner when she heard her name, _her male dwarf name_ , and that of her dwarf brothers being called. She dropped down from the tree she was in and hurried over to where Adamanta was off to one side with a dwarf in full armor standing near the ovens. She frowned as she and her brothers joined them.

“What’s going on?” Nori asked.

The dwarf, one Bilbori remembered vaguely from some training exercises, turned and bowed to them. “Forgive the intrusion, sons of Nobri… It’s just that I’ve come with an urgent message from Lord Dori. It’s just that Lord Nobri has taken ill and Lord Dori isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be with us. He requests you return home immediately.”

The last sentence wasn’t even out of the dwarf’s mouth before the siblings dropped everything and raced toward the Great Smials to gather their things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It had to happen eventually. Sorry. :(
> 
> Reminder: They're not in the mountain surrounded by only dwarfs, so it's natural for the dwarf to refer to Dilnobri in the masculine form.


End file.
